


Simon vs. the Anonymous Valentine's Message

by DracoWillHearAboutThis



Series: Simon @ Hogwarts [1]
Category: Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda - Becky Albertalli
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Harry Potter triggered Simon's sexual awakening, I'll tag it as both, M/M, Maybe this is more of a crossover, Minor Garrett Laughlin/Morgan, Minor Leah Burke/Abby Suso, Or better Modern Hogwarts, POV First Person, POV Simon, Past Nick Eisner/Abby Suso, Past Simon Spier/Anna, Valentine's Day, Year 2014, but that's canon don't look at me, like there are smartphones and magical internet, lots of mentions of Simonverse and Potterverse characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2019-07-07 07:08:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15903372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DracoWillHearAboutThis/pseuds/DracoWillHearAboutThis
Summary: When his owl delivers a Valentine's message from a person named Blue, Simon makes it his mission to find out who he is.





	Simon vs. the Anonymous Valentine's Message

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, both to readers who've read stories of mine before in Potter fandom and readers who stumbled in from Simon fandom! Welcome to my first story in this fandom, and the first one in a long, long time that's not Drarry. I found my way to Becky Albertalli's books through the movie this summer, and ever since, I've been absolutely obsessed with Simon and Bram. After some thorough screaming at the friend who dragged me into this mess, I've decided to focus my excess of feelings on something productive, and that's how this fic was born. 
> 
> It's set in what I imagine a modern day Hogwarts would look like - with Muggle technology embedded in the Wizarding Society. Since the story is set in the year 2014, Harry and Co are already adults and don't personally appear, but some characters from the old and the next generation will. It's set before the Epilogue + Cursed Child, though, so you can choose whether you want to include them in your private imagination of this world or not. 
> 
> Also, characters from Upside are not playing a role in this story. I imagine they are at Ilvermorny. 
> 
> And last but not least, I want to point out that's it's been a while since I wrote First Person POV, and it was quite a challenge to get back to. I really hope I managed to pull it off. If not, I apologise. I'm also no native speaker, but since I usually lean towards British English and because this is Hogwarts, I'm going to stick to British spelling and expressions as much as I'm able to. I might be mixing in some stuff every now and then though because as an ESL writer it's sometimes hard to separate which expressions you caught from which region. So please bear with me. 
> 
> Now, there's nothing left for me to say but to thank my beta Mimix for her neverending enthusiasm for this little project of mine - I love you like Simon loves Leah, but not like Simon loves Bram, sorry - and to wish all of you happy reading! :D

I’m honestly unsure of how any of this is my actual reality.

You have to understand that, for most of my life, romance has been a pretty rare factor in the equation that makes up _me_. I mean, I don’t think I have much right to complain: I have a great, if slightly intrusive and freaking weird family, the best bunch of friends I could ever ask for, as well as decent grades. We’re not living through a war, which my parents constantly remind us of whenever my sisters or I are complaining about literally anything in the world, and we’re not bad off financially, either. So, really, the lack of romance is a tiny dark pixel in the big picture of sunshine and rainbows that shouldn’t bother me all that much. It does, truth be told, but I’ve also gotten used to living without.

So I’m not sure how I came to sit here at the Hufflepuff table for breakfast on Valentine’s Day, Cal Price across from me asking about my plans for tomorrow - it’s Hogsmeade weekend - while I just stare at the parchment in my hand, flabbergasted. I don't move even when Bieber insistently nips at my fingers, demanding praise for the letter he delivered (this owl is shameless when it comes to food or affection, I swear to Merlin). Instead, I choose to keep staring at the message in my hand incredulously, mouth hanging open.

“Simon?” Cal asks, frowning at me. “Is something wrong?”

Before I can even start an attempt at regaining control over my facial expression, the parchment is snapped out of my hands. I whirl around, almost knocking Anna’s toast out of her hand with my flailing, to face Leah and Abby, who have appeared seemingly out of nowhere. I guess that’s what your Slytherin friend and her Gryffindor side-kick do whenever it’s most inconvenient. I should be used to it by now, but I’m not. Leah is holding my note, eyebrows raised so high they threaten to fly off her forehead entirely and rise to the ceiling of the Great Hall, and Abby is resting her chin on her shoulder, reading with unabashed excitement.

“Oh my god, Simon!” she gushes. “This is literally the most adorable thing I have ever seen!”

“Who’s Blue?” Leah asks, turning to search the crowd of students with narrowed eyes as if daring someone to reveal themselves.

As it is, some of them are staring, though I’m sure their attention has been drawn by the ruckus we’re making. Over at the Gryffindor table, Nick and Garrett have abandoned their sausages to frown at us. Nick’s eyes meet mine, and he tilts his head questioningly. Not far from them, Nora and Victoire are whispering to each other, eyes on me. At the Ravenclaw table, I catch Bram staring, but the other boy quickly averts his gaze, clearly embarrassed. At least one of our friends has some form of respect for my privacy. At the Slytherin table, on the other hand, Taylor and Morgan are visibly leaning forwards, as if straining to catch our next words.

“I don’t know,” I hiss, making a snatch for the letter, but Leah holds it out of my reach. “Give it back!”

“Well, we need to find out who he is!” Abby calls. “This boy sent you the most precious Valentine in the history of Valentines!”

“Let me see!” Anna demands, holding her hand out for the parchment.

“No way!” I gasp, jumping to my feet and successfully retrieving the letter before Anna can get her hands on it.

“Spoilsport,” Anna pouts, turning back to her breakfast.

I look at the message in my hands, heat rushing to my cheeks as I reread it.

 

_I love the way you smile like you don’t realise you’re doing it. I love your perpetual bed head. I love the way you hold eye contact a moment longer than you need to. And I love your moon-grey eyes._

_Happy Valentine’s Day, Simon._

_-Blue_

 

The handwriting is neat and vertical, and I can’t stop my eyes from hanging on every detail of the script, committing the way the letters curve as well as the actual words to memory.

Someone at Hogwarts likes me. Someone has taken the time and effort to watch me closely enough to pick up on all kinds of little peculiarities and then put them on paper in that almost poetic way that has me nearly melting into a puddle on the floor for Filch to wipe up.

These things don’t happen to me. I’m not the kind of boy to get thoughtful messages from admirers, or who even _has_ admirers in the first place. I’ve only ever dated one person - Anna, in fourth year - and that was, quite frankly, only because she’s Cho Chang’s daughter. I mean, Cho Chang was Harry Potter’s first girlfriend. You have to admit that’s kind of cool.

Yes, _that’s_ the kind of person I am. I’m the loser that had his sexual awakening over pictures of Harry Potter in the _Daily Prophet_  and then kept it to himself until he was outed to the whole school by Martin Addison, of all people.

Yeah, fifth year was a freaking pain that I try to not remember unless I absolutely have to. It started with Abby breaking up with Nick. Honestly, if I didn’t love the girl to death and if she wasn’t head-over-heels in love with my other best friend, I’d blame her for all the drama that followed. Because if Abby hadn’t broken up with Nick, Martin wouldn’t have thought he had a shot with her. If he hadn’t thought he had a shot with her, he wouldn’t have tried to blackmail me with his hunch of my sexuality - how he guessed, I'm still not sure, and I'm even less sure of why the hell I didn't just deny it - into setting him up with Abby. And he certainly wouldn’t have lost his shit once Abby started dating Leah, prompting him to out me on the Hogwarts gossip tag on _Quibblr_.

Honestly, Martin should be kicked out of Hufflepuff for being a jerk. You don’t get to be in a house that prides itself on loyalty and fairness and then blow a house mate’s secret to the whole school out of pettiness.

Not that the whole getting-forced-into-coming-out thing is as bad as it felt back then, in retrospective. Sure, it sucks that I didn’t get to decide the time and place, and it was a freaking huge embarrassment, but my friends have been amazing and now I don’t have to hide anymore.

And apparently, now I get cute Valentine’s messages from secret admirers, too.

 

Thoughts of Blue and who could be hiding behind that alias stay with me all through double Herbology, making it hard to focus on trimming the tentacula plant on our table without getting scratched by the poisonous thorns.

“Simon!” Nick hisses, causing me to pull back my hand just in time. “I swear to Merlin, I’m not dragging you over to the hospital wing, so watch out!”

I flush and look up to meet the eyes of Professor Longbottom, which are sparkling with amusement as he watches us. For a moment of complete paranoia, I wonder if he overheard Abby yelling about my secret Valentine this morning, but then I realise that he’s probably just laughing at my clumsiness. Professor Longbottom always seems strangely partial to students who are a freaking mess. Maybe that’s why he likes me.

I sigh and look over to the table next to ours. Abby and Leah are completely focused on their task, and I wonder how they manage to be stupidly in love and still top-students while working together in basically every class. I don’t even know who my Valentine’s message is _from_ and I’m already freaking useless.

My eyes drift over the rest of the students in NEWT-level Herbology. Anna and Morgan are switching notes under the table, clearly bored. Right in front of them, Taylor is holding a monologue about the attributes of the plant, to which Bram is clearly paying no attention at all, too engrossed in the efficient trimming of said plant. I can’t help but smile as I watch them. Taylor and Bram have been in competition for the spot at the top of our year from basically their first week at Hogwarts, and while Taylor is fighting toes and nails for it, Bram just effortlessly beats her each year. It makes Taylor furious, but since no one can be angry at cute and silent Bram Greenfeld for long, she instead decided to partner with him whenever his best friend Garrett is not around. She probably thinks she might manage to uncover his secrets if she spends enough time with him. It’s hilarious.

“Simon,” Nick groans, elbowing him. “Honestly, it’s like working solo with you.”

“Sorry,” I return hastily, turning to face him - only to find Cal smiling at me from the table on Nick’s other side. I smile back sheepishly and attempt to focus on catching the nearest tentacula and cutting off two leaves. I bite my lip, frowning. Cal is not actually part of our wide-spread group of friends, but we’ve been sharing a dormitory for the past six years and he’s always been easy to talk to. And he _did_ ask me about my plans tomorrow before the note arrived… Has he actually been trying to ask me out?

I chance another glance at Cal, studying his profile. Cal _is_ cute, there is no denying it: He has neatly styled blond hair and startling blue eyes, and a smile to die for. I’ve definitely registered his attractiveness before - I just never considered him as ‘available’, I guess.

Cal raises his ocean-blue eyes to meet mine once more, as if feeling my gaze on him, and I stop breathing.

 _Blue._ Could it be…?

Nick knocks his book against the back of my head, making me wince.

“Owww,” I pout. “Was that really necessary?”

“Obviously,” Nick grumbles. “You’re paying for my Butterbeer tomorrow, just so you know. You owe me.”

“Fine,” I roll my eyes, turning back to our plant, only to find Bram glancing over his shoulder at us. Amusement dances in his soft brown eyes and I can’t help but smile at him. Bram has that effect on people.

 

“You really don’t have a clue?” Abby prods, and I feel like she’s one step away from using Legilimency on me. “You have to suspect _someone_.”

We are all sitting in ‘our’ corner of the library, doing homework in our free after-lunch period. It’s Divination on the Sixth Year schedule, and the only person I’m aware of who’s mad enough to take up Firenze’s NEWT-level course is Martin, so each and every member of our unlikely gang is gathered, for once: Nick, Garrett and Bram are discussing Quidditch - Nick and Garrett are on the Gryffindor team, and Bram is Ravenclaw’s Captain - Leah, Morgan and Anna are huddled together with their phones, probably scrolling through _Quibblr_ , every now and then checking over their shoulders that Madam Pince is nowhere in sight. Like most of the older staff, Madam Pince absolutely _detests_ magi-phones. I’m pretty sure Headmistress McGonagall would love to ban them from Hogwarts entirely if not for Minister Granger-Weasley’s clear stance on encouraging the merger of muggle technology and magic. And I’m glad for it. I mean, I could do without the _Quibblr_ , which has long since its creation by Luna Lovegood stopped being a portal for independent journalists and has become a strangely addictive pithole of gossip instead. But I can’t imagine a life completely without the w4 - the World Wide Wizarding Web - and all the pleasures it entails.

The only one paying any real attention to me is Abby, which is a relief. I feel uncomfortable enough discussing my secret admirer _without_ cute Bram listening in on it.

“No,” I sigh. “I mean. I don’t know. Once I start thinking about it, I see signs everywhere, you know?”

“Cal has been pretty attentive lately,” Abby says slowly.

“It crossed my mind, too,” I admit, biting my lip.

“Asking him can’t hurt, can it?” Abby suggests hopefully.

“Sure it can,” I scoff. “I can’t just go up and _ask_! It will make everything awkward if I’m wrong! I’m sharing a _dorm_ with him!”

“Do you think he’d be a jerk about it?” Abby frowns. “Sounds unlikely to me. He never said anything when you got outed, either.”

“He didn’t,” I confirm. “It’s not that, exactly. I don’t know, I just think it would be weird.”

“Well,” Abby shrugs. “There might be another way to find out.”

“How?” I ask, studying her face, but her eyes are on the phone in Leah’s hand, and her lips are quirking up into a smile.

“You could make a post on _Quibblr_ ,” she announces, grinning. “Just ask Blue to contact you online.”

“Oh, come on,” I shake my head. “That’s ridiculous!”

“Is it?” she frowns. “He’s obviously too shy to approach you in person, so messaging might do the trick?”

“But…” I mutter, trailing off and biting my lip in thought.

“He likes you, Simon,” Abby insists. “A _lot_ , if his message is anything to go by. And he wants to get close to you, or he wouldn’t have sent you a Valentine’s message in the first place. You just need to create an environment where he feels safe to reach out to you. Simple as that.”

“But isn’t this a little… public?” I return, doubtful. “Everyone would be talking about it.”

“Oh please,” Abby waves me off. “There are about fifty posts _daily_ on _Quibblr_. People will pay attention to it for a total of five minutes before moving on. If anything, chances are Blue won’t even see it. But I still think it’s worth a try. Don’t you?”

I don’t answer. The idea has its appeal, I have to admit, even though I’m a little freaked out by the fact that I’m actually _thinking_ about it at all. This could go all kinds of wrong. I’ve had the whole school’s attention on me before, and I’m unwilling to go back to that.

On the other hand, I really want to know who Blue is. It’s driving me insane.

 

Only when I’m back in the common room later that evening, huddled into the armchair next to my favourite plant - the one with the lilac blossoms that smell kind of like cookies - I allow myself to weight up the pros and cons of Abby’s idea. She’s not wrong about the short attention span our fellow students seem to possess. Even my coming out wasn’t a topic for long. People had moved on to other gossip by the end of the week, and the jerks who dared to make any derogatory comments were quickly shut down by both my friends and the teachers.

And I _could_ be vague about my message. Even though it feels like the whole school’s been listening in on us this morning, it’s Valentine’s Day - people have different things on their mind than Simon Spier receiving a note from an anonymous admirer. If I phrase my message in a smart way, no one might even guess what I’m referring to. Of course, my friends would tease me mercilessly, but thus is life as a badger in a crowd of lions and snakes. It’s not like I’m not used to it.

My front teeth are digging into my bottom lip as I restlessly scroll through the _hogsecrets_ tag, not really reading the posts, just staring blankly at the letters and thinking.

What if I actually make a post, and Blue won’t contact me? What if he _does_ , and he turns out to be someone I’m not interested in? What if it all turns out to be some homophobic git’s big joke?

I reach into the pocket of my robe and draw out the letter again, my eyes going back and forth over the neat script and the sweet words again and again. It doesn’t _seem_ like a joke to me. The words appear to have been chosen carefully and the sentiment behind them feels sincere, warming me from the inside every time I read it.

With a start, I realise that I _want_ it to be real. I’ve spent enough time watching my friends fall in love with that distinct ache in my chest, wishing that it could be _me_ for a change. That I would find a person who looked at me the way Abby looked at Leah, or that someone would gently take my hand the way Nick used to do with Abby. I want my own love story, and this Valentine’s message seems to be a good shot at it. There is something about the words on that parchment that makes them feel like a physical caress to me, and the craving they brought forward isn’t something I can just push down and ignore.

Before I know what I’m doing, I’m pushing the button to write a new post. I hold in, staring at the layout thoughtfully, before just typing away.

 

**hourtohour_notetonote**

 

_Dear Blue,_

_thank you for your lovely Valentine’s message. I wished I could thank you in person, but as I have no idea who you are, I hope that this post will reach you._

_I would really like to know you, or at least get to know you. If you are in any way interested in that, please give me a way to contact you._

_I’ll be waiting._

 

_#hogsecrets_

 

My fingers are shaking as I read through the post again and again, trying to look at it from the angle of an outsider. Apart from the witnesses of this morning’s scene, nobody should be able to tell who’s the one writing the post, or as a matter of fact, what’s being referenced. It’s as anonymous as it can get without talking in riddles and risking that Blue won’t understand that he’s the addressee.

I hesitate, looking around the common room as if expecting all eyes on me, but no one is even glancing my way. Everyone is blissfully distracted, and somehow, that’s what gives me the courage I need to press the ‘Post’ button.

I stare, paralysed, as the post appears on my timeline, and by extension, the _hogsecrets_ tag.

“Oh Merlin,” I whisper to myself. “What have I done?”

Still, I can’t bring myself to delete.

 

“Oh my god, Simon,” Abby gushes the next morning, approaching me in the entrance hall to pull me into a tight hug. “I can’t believe you did it! This is so great! I’m so proud of you!”

“I _honestly_ can’t believe you did this,” Leah grins, catching my eyes over Abby’s shoulder. “You’re a fucking hero, Simon.”

“Am I?” I ask, making a face as I disentangle myself from Abby. “I feel like a huge idiot.”

“Did he contact you?” Nick asks.

“Not yet,” I sigh. “And I’m not sure he will, either. I mean, what if he isn’t even on _Quibblr_?”

“Who _isn’t_ on _Quibblr_?!” Leah scoffs, sounding almost offended.

“Or if he doesn’t want me to know who he is?” I continue, ignoring her input. “If he doesn’t want the world to know he’s gay? Oh Merlin,” I mutter, shaking my head. “I should never have written that post!”

“Calm down, mate,” Nick rolls his eyes. “I’m sure it’s fine. He wouldn’t have sent you that message if he wasn’t interested, right?”

“Exactly,” Abby nods eagerly. “Just give him some time to read it and figure out how to answer. Oh, I can’t wait!” she squeals, squeezing his shoulder. “You have to keep us updated, do you hear me?”

“Updated on what?” Garrett asks as he approaches them, arm slung over Morgan’s shoulders and Bram tagging along at their side. “What are we missing?”

“Simon is being sickeningly romantic,” Leah informs them easily, with a smirk so smug that I’m tempted to reach for my wand and hex her.

“I’m not,” I protest indignantly. “I’m a cynic, thank you very much.”

Both Leah and Morgan snort. Even Bram smiles.

“He made a post on _Quibblr_ to find his secret Valentine,” Abby tells the others before I can stop her, causing heat to rush to my face. “Isn’t that the cutest thing you ever heard?”

“Did he really?” Garrett asks, lips quirking into a smirk that almost makes me groan out loud.

“Fine, go ahead and tease me,” I roll my eyes and cross my arms defensively, aiming the best glare I can muster under the crushing weight of my embarrassment at everyone in direct vicinity. “Get it out of your system, because I won’t have any of it in the Great Hall at breakfast.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Garrett says innocently, his eyes flickering sideways to Bram, but the other boy isn’t looking at him. Good, I think. My stomach feels heavy at the thought of Garrett poking fun at me with Cute Bram Greenfeld of all people.

“Good,” comes a voice from behind Garrett, and before he can turn around, Nora has already slammed her History of Magic book into his head, making him curse in pain. “No one makes fun of my Hufflepuff brother. I’ll get Victoire to take points from you.”

“I’m in your house!” Garrett protests.

“As if I care,” Victoire huffs, pointedly adjusting the shiny Prefect badge attached to her Gryffindor robes. “If you’re a homophobic prat, I’ll personally drag you to Professor Longbottom.”

“I’m not homophobic!” Garrett calls, letting go of Morgan to hurry after Nora and Victoire. “Weasley, wait!”

“Ignore him,” Morgan rolls her eyes and catches Leah’s eyes, nodding in the direction of the Great Hall. “He only barks, but never bites.”

“I know,” I sigh, and Abby links our arms together, leading me towards the Gryffindor table.

I guess I’m not going to get a quiet minute today, after all.

 

For the rest of the day, I obsessively check my phone, but there are no notifications from _Quibblr_ , and my heart feels a little heavier with each passing hour.

“Give it time,” Nick tells me when he catches me checking my phone again as we exit Honeydukes. “He might not even have seen your post yet. Not everyone eats online gossip for breakfast like Leah does.”

“I know,” I say, sighing as I put my phone away. “But what if he doesn’t answer at all? What if I’m doomed to wonder who he is for the rest of my life, Nick?”

“Don’t be dramatic,” he snorts. “Whoever the bloke is, he fancies you. It would be counterproductive for him to hide forever.”

“I guess,” I mutter, quickly dropping the subject when my shoulder bumps Cal’s, who's heading into the shop we're leaving. The other boy smiles at me in passing, and my heart speeds up a little.

Cal has a nice smile. I won’t complain if Blue turns out to be Cal.

When the notification _does_ come later that evening, I almost fall off my bed in alarm. I’d just been leaning over the side to snatch a package of Oreos from my trunk (nothing against Honeydukes, but Muggle sweets _rule_ ) when my phone vibrates, and I reach for it so fast that I nearly lose my balance and tumble to the floor into the inelegant mess that I am. I don’t, though, and my fingers quickly unlock my screen to find a little purple ‘one’ above the _Quibblr_ app icon. Taking a deep breath, I click on it. There is a message in my inbox.

 

 **bluegreen118** said:

 

_Simon,_

_I’m sorry for my sudden, mysterious appearance. Truth is, I’ve had my eyes on you for quite a while, but I was too scared to approach you. A friend practically blackmailed me into sending you that message. It was completely out of character for me and I’ve been silently agonising over it ever since._

_I did not expect you to actually look for a way to get in touch with me. A part of me is thrilled, and the other part is horrified. I’m scared that you might be disappointed once you know who I am. Does that make sense? Probably not._

_I’m just the kind of person to completely freeze up around cute boys, or more specifically, you. I can’t help it. I go totally silent. So I have a suggestion, which might sound weird to you and if you’re not up for it, I’d completely understand. I won’t blame you. But I was wondering if we could just message each other for a while before I reveal my identity to you?_

_I express myself better in written words, and I hope that, if you get to know me a little before you actually meet me, you might be more likely to take an interest in me in real life._

_I realise, of course, that it is unfair of me to not introduce myself when I obviously know who you are, so as an offering, I would give you deliberate hints about my identity in every message. You know me, and you might figure out who I am rather sooner than later if you pick up on them. To be honest, I have already given you a lot of clues in this message alone. If you already have an idea, I wouldn’t be surprised._

_Let me know what you think about my suggestion. I’ll be waiting._

_-Blue_

 

My heart is pounding as I reach the end of the message, my fingers clutching my phone as if my life depends on it. _He contacted me._ He actually contacted me. I still have no idea who he is, but somehow, that seems unimportant right now. Even though he doesn’t want to meet me in person yet, there’s a promise of that possibility in the future, and somehow, that is enough for me. Maybe it’s even better that way. I really don’t know much about him, other than the fact that he writes grammatically correct, sweet messages, that he is shy and careful, and that he has a crush on me. This way, I can take my time getting to know him, and when I get to the point of knowing who he is, I might have developed feelings, too.

Also, there is something about the idea of exchanging messages and slowly figuring out who I am talking to. It’s exciting. Leah will tease me about being a hopeless romantic, but that’s not nearly enough of a reason to turn down the chance of getting to know a potentially cute boy.

I’m grinning down at my phone as the door opens and Cal enters our dormitory. He holds in when he sees my expression, raising both his eyebrows in question, the corners of his lips quirking into a smile.

“You seem terribly excited. Good news?”

“You could say that,” I nod, watching Cal for any signs that would give him away as Blue. “I got a really sweet message.”

“Oh, I see,” Cal said, frowning. “Does this have anything to do with that Valentine’s card of yours.”

“Yes,” I nod, biting my lip. Looks like I've been on the wrong track in suspecting Cal.

“So, you know who he is?” Cal asks.

“No,” I shake my head. “We’re just messaging, for now.”

“Okay,” Cal nods, smiling softly before breaking their eye contact and walking over to pick up his Care of Magical Creatures book from his trunk. “Well, good luck with that.”

“Thanks,” I say, watching as Cal leaves the room again, closing that door behind himself.

So much for that hunch of mine, I think, a little disappointed. But I’m not going to let this deter me from this arrangement. I want to know who Blue is. So I tap on the little pen at the bottom of Blue’s message, opening the text field for my reply.

 

_Blue,_

_thank you for your message. It seriously made me super happy. I was afraid that you weren’t going to react and I would be left wondering forever._  

_As for your suggestion, I’m all game. I’m freaking curious as to your identity (especially since you said I already know you?!), but I can totally wait until you are ready. I just want to get to know you, and if that’s happening online, for now, I’m fine with that._

_Regarding your little clues and me figuring out who you are, you might be overestimating me, though. I have been told repeatedly that I have a one-track mind, so I’m not the most observant person out there. My parents call it Simon logic. I hate the term but even I can’t deny that they have a point. So if you expected me to figure out your hints right away, I have to disappoint you. I honestly have no clue who you are. But I guess that’s how you want it to be, for now, so maybe you’re lucky?_

_Anyway, I’ll be looking forward to getting to know you through these messages._

_Excitedly,_

_Simon_

 

I read through the message once more, double-checking my grammar, and hit ‘Send’ before I can talk myself out of it. Then I close _Quibblr_ to text Nick, Leah and Abby in our group chat.

 _He messaged me_ , is all I write.

The reactions are immediate.

 _YESSSS_ , Abby writes.

 _I knew it!!_ , says Leah.

 _Mate, who is it??_ , Nick asks.

I grin as I type.

_I don’t know. He wants us to get to know each other through messages before he tells me who he is_

_I dunno if that’s sweet or creepy_

_Don’t listen to her, Simon!! This is so romantic. It’s like a modern-day version of Email For You, but with fast internet and without modems._

_A modern-day version of what without what_

_Ugh, Nick, you are such a pureblood, I swear to god. We’re doing a movie night this summer._

_I hope that movie night will include some movies that are not from the 90s and don’t star Meg Ryan or I’m out._

_You’re such a killjoy, Leah. Meg Ryan rules._

I let my phone drop next to me on the pillow, stretching leisurely, a tiny smile permanently fixed on my lips.

I already can’t wait for Blue’s next message.

 

 

 **bluegreen118** said:

 

_Simon,_

_I guess I’m lucky indeed. I feel like I’m being so obvious. Then again, my best friend keeps telling me I’m just paranoid. He’s the complete opposite of me: Absolutely no filter, just saying whatever comes to his mind, worrying about the consequences later. It’s a bit taxing sometimes, but I also admire it. I wished I could be a bit more like him sometimes. Be brave and take chances._

_These messages to you are the biggest risk I have taken in a long, long time. It’s terrifying, but it also feels elevating. It’s almost surreal to be able to write to you like this. The anonymity of these messages allows me to say things I’d never have been able to tell you face to face. It’s almost like I become another person entirely. The person I want to be, maybe._

_If I were a little bit braver, maybe I’d have approached you last year when you were outed publicly. I’d have told you not to take anything these homophobic gits have been throwing at you to heart, and that I think you are the most adorable boy in this school. I’d have stood up for you properly, and I'd have screamed out my own sexuality to the world in solidarity._

_I’d have asked you out the moment I knew you were available._

_I’m sorry I couldn’t do that. I guess that’s why I’m not a Gryffindor._

_-Blue_

 

I feel like I’m soaring as I read Blue’s message. I’ve never been one for flying, but I imagine this must be what it feels like to people who enjoy it.

“You look so smitten,” Abby grins, sitting down next to me at the Hufflepuff table and pinching my cheek. She has a weird thing about my cheeks. She says they are cute. “Did he write again?”

“He did,” I confirm, quickly locking my screen before she can take the phone from my hands. “It’s so weird, I mean, I know it’s just messages. I don’t really know anything about him yet. But there’s just something about the way he writes? I don’t quite understand it, but I feel drawn to him.”

“These things don’t work logically, Simon,” Abby shrugs. “If it feels right, it just does.” She links her arm through mine. “I’m so excited for you,” she breathes.”You deserve this so much, especially after everything that happened last year. I’m so happy that you have someone who cares about you that deeply, even if we don’t know who he is yet.”

“It feels strange,” I admit. “No one ever showed any romantic interest in me. It’s hard to wrap my mind around.”

“I don’t think that’s quite true,” Abby frowns. “I know of at least one person who used to have a crush on you, but if I tell you, they’d kill me. Also, Cal seems pretty interested in you lately.” She glances down the table to where Cal is sitting with a couple of seventh year girls.

“It's not him,” I tell her. “His reaction to my receiving a message from Blue last night sort of ruled him out.”

“Hm,” Abby only says, still looking at Cal. “Do you have any other ideas?”

“Not really,” I sigh. “I know him, that much is for sure. He told me that I do. Though I probably don’t know him well, because he’s shy and doesn’t talk much. And he’s not a Gryffindor.”

“Shame,” Abby grimaces. “It would have been much easier to find someone from my own house.”

“Maybe it’s better I don’t know yet,” I shrug. “He’s right. It might be easier for me to get to know him without any direct pressure. I mean, what if I meet him now and I don’t feel anything? That would be so awkward.”

“Aren’t you dying to know?” Abby prods. “I mean, I’m out of my mind with curiosity, and it’s not even about me!”

“Of course I want to know!” I confirm. “But I think I’m okay with taking my time. We’re in no rush.”

“I guess you’re right,” she smiles. “And it _is_ terribly romantic.”

I can feel myself flushing at her words. She coos and squishes my cheek.

 

Things continue like that for a while. Blue and I exchange daily messages, talking about anything and everything, and that feeling of rightness that had settled in my chest from that first message I received on Valentine’s Day starts to spread more and more through fibre of my being with each new _Quibblr_ notification.

Blue stays true to his word and drops me plenty of hints, but I can’t seem to make much of them. I know now that he’s a halfblood - Muggle Dad and Witch Mum - and that his parents are divorced. I know that he reads Muggle literature in his free time because his Dad is an English teacher and he likes to find things for them to talk about, so he doesn’t feel too left out of his mostly-magical life. His Dad remarried shortly after Blue started at Hogwarts and he found out only a while ago that his stepmother is pregnant, something he doesn’t quite know how to feel about yet. I know that he’s only recently come out to his parents and his best friend, and that they were okay with it, but he still feels squeamish about strangers knowing.

Each and every bit of new information is like a puzzle piece that allows me to put together a picture of the person Blue is in my head, and I really, really like that person.

I just can’t seem to match it with any of the people I know.

The things is also that it’s really easy to talk to Blue. Part of that might be exactly _because_ I don’t know who I’m talking to, but somehow, I doubt that it’s just that. I mean, I know he’s a real person. I know that I know him, and I know that he knows who I am. It should make me feel embarrassed, and unwilling to be open with him because he isn’t open with me - at least not about his identity - and it should create an imbalance.

But it really, really doesn’t. Because Blue _is_ open with me, if not about his identity, then about every other piece that makes him up as a person. He doesn’t censor himself when he describes his thoughts and feelings to me, even when describing episodes that make him uncomfortable. And somehow, that makes it easy to answer in kind.

And part of me feels horrible about the whole thing, because the more I talk to him, the more I think I might actually be falling for him. Which is ridiculous, since I only just started writing to him a couple of weeks ago, and how is it even possible to fall for someone when you don’t know who they are? Not to mention that I might be a little bit of a hypocrite, because Blue is the only person who ever showed any clear romantic interest in me, and even though I don’t know who he is, I immediately talk myself into liking him back. Isn’t that Simon logic at its finest?

Only no one else seems to think that it’s wrong. My friends are eagerly asking for updates every chance they get, and Nora has told Alice about my online romance so even _she_ keeps messaging me about it. Really, I thought Ministry employees who’ve freshly moved in with their boyfriends would have other things on their mind than being creepily invested in their teenage brother’s love life, but alas, it doesn’t seem like it.

The one time I voice my doubts to Leah she gives me that long-suffering look, and I feel like your stereotypical stupid Hufflepuff. Not that Hufflepuffs are stupid, but that’s the image a lot of people still have of our house. If you don’t qualify for any other house, you’re going to be a Puff. You’re not smart like Ravenclaws, or cool like Gryffindors, or badass like Slytherins. You’re just there, smiling obliviously while you’re being made the butt of every joke. Not that Leah sees me like that, of course. In fact, she’d kick the arse of everyone who dared to insult Hufflepuff house in her vicinity. She’s awesome like that.

“Si,” she grinds out, her jaw clenched. “Stop. Just stop.”

“I’m just saying,” I mutter, flushing. “What if I just want this to work out so badly that I’m talking myself into it?”

“There’s nothing wrong with wanting this to work out!” Leah’s voice is vehement, the way she gets when she’s in protective friend mode. “We _all_ want this to work out for you! You deserve to be happy!” When I don’t say anything right away, she continues: “Do you know how hard I tried to run from my feelings before Abby and I got together? _That_ was stupid. _I_ was a hypocrite. I didn’t even talk to Nick about it until way later, even though I knew he was still hung up over their break up. So, that was fucked up. But you,” she shakes her head and catches my eyes. “you’re not hurting anyone, are you? You’re just talking to this sweet guy who likes you, and you think you might like him back, and why shouldn’t you? There’s literally nothing to freak out about.”

“Okay,” I mutter, letting out a breath that I didn’t know I was holding. Then, after a beat, I admit: “I really want to meet him.”

“Did you tell him that?” she asks.

“No, because he’s giving me all these hints so I can figure out who he is, and I still don’t have a freaking clue. I feel like a monumental idiot.”

“Well, it’s easy, then,” Leah says, sitting up, suddenly all business. “We need to figure out who he is.”

“Oh, really?” I scoff. “That hasn’t occurred to me at all. What would I do without you?”

“Pine by yourself for another year or so,” she deadpans, and then she has her phone in hand, typing a message. “Meet us in the library in ten. We’re going to team up and figure out who this Blue is.”

Before I can answer, she has gotten to her feet and is making her way back over to the Gryffindor table. And I feel a little bit like I’ve just accidentally set an Erumpent loose.

 

“Okay,” Abby says as soon as I sit down, eyes glowing in a way that has me slightly nervous. “First thing first. We need all the clues you have on Blue.”

“If I tell you, wouldn’t I be breaking his trust?” I ask slowly, catching Nick’s eyes, who raises an eyebrow at me.

“You don’t need to tell us his darkest secrets,” Leah rolled her eyes. “Just everything that might clue us in on who he is.”

“Um,” I say, biting my lip. “Okay, I guess.”

“Great,” Abby nods, tipping her quill into the ink bottle before setting it down on the parchment. “Shoot.”

“Well, he’s not a Gryffindor,” I say, frowning as Abby scribbles away. “And he’s halfblood.”

“That’s actually helpful,” Leah points out. “It really rules out a lot of people.”

“Does it?” Nick frowns. “I never really ask for people’s blood status.”

“That’s because you’re a pureblood, and you’re completely unaware of Muggle culture,” Leah rolls her eyes. “Seriously, you wouldn’t even know what Oreos are if I hadn’t introduced you to them.”

“Well, it’s not like my family ever dabbled much in the Muggle world,” Nick mutters. “That’s not _my_ fault. Right, Simon?”

“Well, my parents fancy themselves all Muggle-friendly and tolerant,” I shrug, making a face. “So they brought stuff home all the time when I was younger. They think it’s cool.”

“Well, they’re not wrong,” Abby shrugs. “Wizarding society is so old-fashioned. All modern stuff was adapted from the Muggle world. Like phones, and music that doesn’t come out of a radio.” When Nick only blinks at her, she adds: “The _wireless_. Jesus, Nick.”

“Fine, fine,” Nick mutters, holding up his hand. “I failed my Muggle Studies OWLs. Rub it in.”

Abby and Leah exchange one of these long-suffering looks that scream ‘Boys are stupid, especially the pureblood ones,’, but they let the topic drop, much to my relief.

“Anyway,” Leah says. “What I was going to say is that we Muggleborns are actually aware of this kind of thing. As a person who balances two worlds in one life, you tend to connect to people who are knowledgeable about that other world fairly quickly.”

Her words make me imagine a secret Muggleborn and Halfblood club that none of us Purebloods know about. Maybe they get together regularly to watch movies and trash the Wizarding World behind our backs. Maybe they have a secret handshake.

“Right,” Abby says, eyes zeroing in on me. “So, do you have any more information on his family situation?”

“I do,” I nod. “His parents are divorced. He’s living with his Mum, who’s a witch and works for St. Mungo’s. His Dad remarried in the Muggle world, and his stepmom is pregnant.”

“Okay,” Abby nods, noting down everything I say. Between us, Nick suddenly tenses.

“Nick?” Leah asked, scowling at him. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Nick says quickly, but his voice cracks. I stare at him, and when our eyes meet, he flushes. “Sure. Please continue.”

“Anything else about the family?” Abby asks.

“Only that his father teaches English at a Muggle school,” I shrug.

“Alright,” Abby mutters, eyes on the parchment in front of her.

“Has he mentioned anything about his friends?” Leah asks.

“Well, he said his best friend is kind of the opposite of him,” I say, trying to recall his exact wording. “Like, Blue is very quiet and shy, and his friend talks too much, and doesn’t really think about what he says.”

“What’s his name?” Nick asks suddenly. “I mean, his username on _Quibblr_. It’s not Blue, right?”

“No,” I nod, studying Nick’s face closely. He seems on edge, and it makes me nervous. “It’s bluegreen118.”

Nick’s eyes widen at my words, but he just looks at me in silence.

“You know who he is!” Abby breathes, leaning closer to Nick. “Oh my god, Nick! Spit it out!”

“I have to go,” Nick says stiffly, getting to his feet.

“Wait!” Abby calls. “You can’t just take off like that! NICK!”

But Nick is already halfway across the room, and Madam Pince is shooting Abby an angry look that makes her fall silent immediately.

“I can’t believe he just did that,” she hisses, leaning over the table to speak to them. “If he knows, he should at least tip us off! Isn’t that the point of this team meeting?”

“Maybe he wanted to make sure first,” I suggest, my heart pounding so loudly that I’m surprised they can’t hear it.

“Nah, he knows,” Leah shakes her head. “I think he must know the person well, actually. So he’s probably checking in with them right now.”

“This is killing me,” Abby breathes. “Okay, how many halfblood boys do we know? And how many of them are friends with Nick? And how many of _them_ are not in Gryffindor?”

“I’m trying to think of any halfblood friends he has, but I can’t,” Leah frowns. “I mean, Anna is halfblood, but it can’t be her, obviously. And isn’t everyone else either pureblood or Muggleborn?”

“I think so,” Abby frowns. “We must be missing something. Or someone slipped beneath our radar.”

As I just sit there, listening to their conversation, my mind races. If Nick knows Blue well, that means he must indeed be closer to me than I realised. But my mind is drawing a complete blank every time I try to figure out who he could be.

The only halfblood boys I know are indeed Cal and Martin. And it’s not Cal. And _definitely_ not Martin.

Absentmindedly, I take out my phone and check my notifications. No new message on _Quibblr_. I wonder if Blue is just talking to Nick. I wonder if Nick is convincing him to reveal his identity.

I clench my fist, hoping with all my might that Nick succeeds.

 

Nick finds me after dinner and asks me to walk with him. His face is serious and I feel like I can’t breathe. All this time, I have been wondering who the person behind Blue’s messages is, and now that I might be about to find out, I feel like I’m going to be sick.

“So,” Nick says awkwardly as we climb the stairs to the second floor. “I’m sorry for taking off like that earlier.”

“It’s okay,” I return quickly, shaking my head.

“Yeah,” Nick mutters. “It’s just…” he takes a deep breath, before continuing. “I know who he is.”

“Okay,” I say quietly, my heart racing.

“But the thing is,” he presses on. “I can’t just tell you. That wouldn’t be fair of me. You’re my oldest friend, Simon, but he’s a friend of mine, too. And as much as I want to help you, I can’t do that to him.” For a moment, the silence stretches on between them, before Nick whispers: “Please don’t be mad at me.”

“Of course I’m not mad at you,” I say immediately. “The last thing I want is for Blue to be upset at either of us.”

“Yeah,” Nick sighs. “But it’s not that hard to figure out, you know. You just have to look hard enough, Simon. He’s literally right in front of your eyes.” When I frown at him, he snorts out a laugh. “Okay, maybe not _literally_ literally,” he admits. “But still. He’s _right there_ , all the time. You just need to see him.”

“I’m not sure if that makes me feel better or worse,” I reply. Then, before I can talk myself out of it, I ask: “Do you think I’ll like who he is?”

“Well,” Nick says slowly. “I don’t know your type or anything so I can’t say for sure. But he’s a good guy. And his feelings are sincere. He just told me earlier.”

“Okay,” I nod, taking a deep breath. “Okay.”

“Maybe you should just ask him straight out,” Nick suggests. “Tell him that you think you might have feelings for him, too, and that you want to know who he is. It might be the quickest way to end this game of hide and seek.”

“But I feel stupid asking,” I sigh. “ _You_ figured it out! So I should have done so long ago!”

“Well, you might have if he actually talked around you,” Nick snorts, rolling his eyes. “It’s funny, actually. He’s not at all silent around us. Me and his best friend, I mean. It’s only you. Merlin knows why I didn’t figure out the reason earlier. I guess I’m not that bright, either.”

“That’s good to hear,” I say, smiling despite the flush in my cheeks. “We can be stupid and oblivious together.”

“Oh, we sure can,” Nick laughs. “It’s our thing. Leah might even make us badges.”

I chuckle because Leah actually would.

“Anyway,” Nick said. “I’m keeping my fingers crossed for both of you. I hope things work out.”

I smile at him and nod. Nick elbows me in a friendly way, and a comfortable silence falls between us.

“So,” Nick says. “You’re up for a quick round of Exploding Snap before we have to head back to our common rooms? You still owe me a revenge from last time.”

“Oh, you’re on!” I grin, and we take off to our usual alcove in the third floor, bickering and laughing.

 

When I make it down for breakfast the next day, I feel like I’m sleepwalking. I barely managed to catch a minute of sleep between thoughts of Blue and his true identity, and now I curse myself because Professor Babbling announced a quiz for today in Ancient Runes and I so don’t feel up to it. Why can’t she quiz me about random facts regarding my anonymous online friend instead? I’d ace that one for sure.

No, scratch that. I’d probably fail.

As I make my way over to the Hufflepuff table, I manage to stumble over an abandoned satchel on the floor and crash right into a couple of Ravenclaws. Strong arms catch me before I make an impact with the table, though, and when I look up, I find myself face to face with Bram Greenfeld.

Incredibly cute Bram Greenfeld, with his soft brown eyes that are studying me with concern.

“Careful,” he says softly. “Are you alright?”

I can’t help the flush that spreads over my face, only just managing to bite down on a curse.

“Yeah, sorry,” I chuckle, straightening myself. “Random bout of clumsiness.”

I feel a little regretful as he lets go of me. I’ve always known how cute Bram is, of course, but that close up he’s breathtaking.

As soon as the thought crosses my mind, I feel guilty. I should be focusing on figuring out who Blue is, not swoon over Bram Greenfeld.

“Okay,” Bram nods, smiling. Damn, but he _is_ adorable. “Think you can make it to your house table alone, or do you want to sit down?”

I laugh. Bram has this slight, surprising sense of humour. He doesn’t talk much, but when he does, it always catches me off guard.

“I think I should be fine,” I grin, pointedly taking the one step over to the empty seat at the Hufflepuff table, right in his back. “See. No harm done.”

Bram laughs and reluctantly turns back to his plate. I slide into the seat, looking up to find myself across from Cal.

“Morning,” I smile, reaching out for some toast.

“Good morning,” Cal greets me back, blue eyes taking in my face. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I laugh. “I just tripped, no need to worry.”

“No, I mean, you look tired,” Cal points out, frowning. “You’re very preoccupied in general lately. I was just wondering if you were doing alright.”

“I’m fine,” I ensure him, the flush from my previous conversation with Bram returning in full force. “Just have a lot on my mind, is all.”

“About that guy you’re writing to?” Cal asks softly.

“Sort of, yeah,” I chuckle.

“I see,” Cal says, looking uncomfortable. “So, what's going on there? Are you and him a thing?”

“No,” I say quickly. “I mean, I don’t know? He won’t tell me who he is, and I can’t seem to figure it out. So I guess until I know his real name, nothing much can happen, right?”

“I’d say so,” Cal nods, biting his lip. “Actually…” he holds in, meeting my eyes for a split second before he looks back at his plate. He lets out a soft sigh. “I’m not sure if I should just go ahead and say it, or if I should better keep quiet,” he admits. “I’ve been agonising over this ever since Valentine’s Day.”

“What are you talking about?” I ask, frowning.

“Well,” Cal mutters, smiling self-consciously. “Before you received that message, I’ve kind of been trying to ask you out.”

I gape at him. Cal laughs at my expression.

“So you really had no idea?” he checks. “I thought I was being obvious.”

“No - I mean -,” I bring out, and my voice cracks. “I didn’t know you were gay.”

“I’m bi, actually,” Cal shrugs sheepishly. “And I’ve had my eyes on you for a while, Simon. I know I’m not the guy you have been trying to get in touch with,” he says, pursing his lips. “But I’m right here, and I’m done hiding. So, if you’re at all interested, maybe you could give me a chance?”

I can’t speak. I’m just staring at Cal, my heart beating so violently that I think it's about to break out of my chest and slam him right in the face.

Behind me, there’s a sudden crash, and I whirl around. Bram has gotten to his feet, and he's knocked his empty plate to the floor in the process.

“Sorry,” Bram murmurs, bending to pick it up hastily.

“Don’t worry,” I say automatically. “You’re okay?”

“Sure,” he nods, but he doesn’t make eye contact. He puts the plate back onto the table and takes off for the door.

Slowly, I turn back to Cal, who is still looking at me expectantly.

The thing is, a couple of weeks ago, I’d have immediately agreed to go on a date with Cal Price. The boy is gorgeous and kind and checks all the boxes for The Ideal Boyfriend.

But he isn’t Blue, and my heart is already halfway sold to the boy on the other side of all the messages in my _Quibblr_ inbox.

“I’m sorry,” I say, making a face. “I’m flattered, I really am. And I think you’re really cute. Like, _totally_ cute. But I really need to figure out this thing with Blue first.”

“I see,” Cal nods, a sad smile on his lips. “You like him.”

“I do,” I admit. “And I don’t think it would be fair to either of you if I didn’t try to pursue this.”

“I understand,” Cal ensures him. “Maybe, if I hadn’t waited so long, it would have been different. Like, if I had asked you properly on Valentine’s Day.”

“Yeah,” I sigh, feeling more horrible with each passing moment. “Maybe. Probably.” A beat of silence, and then I add, once more: “I’m really sorry, Cal.”

“Please don’t apologise,” he smiles. “You’re honest, and I appreciate that. And maybe, if that thing with Blue doesn’t work out, you can give me a heads up?” His eyes are so hopeful that I have to return his smile.

“Alright,” I promise. “I’ll let you know.”

 

While Cal’s words don’t sway me in my affection for Blue, they do turn a switch in my head. Suddenly, the need to find out Blue’s identity seems unbearable. Maybe it’s about what Cal insinuated, even though he wouldn’t have been as rude to say it out loud: That Blue, unlike Cal, was not _really_ present in my life, and that his existence was therefore somehow less _real_ , less valuable.

And while I know that that’s not true, it bothers me a lot. Because Blue _is_ real. His kindness and his surprising honesty are real. The way he always knows exactly what to say is real, too. And the way he listens and picks up on little details, makes me laugh with his smart jokes and easy quips that don’t sting, those are definitely real.

And, most importantly, his feelings for me are real, and none the less valuable than Cal’s. And my feelings for him are real, too.

I have to meet him. I need a way to validate what we have. I can’t keep playing this game anymore.

I want more than just a bunch of messages on my phone.

So when I make it back to my dormitory that night, I take out said phone and open my _Quibblr_ inbox. I hit the reply button on Blue’s last message and start writing.

 

_Blue,_

_I had a strange conversation earlier. A cute guy from my house asked me out, and I know that weeks ago, I would have been ecstatic because of it. But today, all I could think about was you, and how that person asking me out wasn’t you._

_I know you wanted me to figure out who you are on my own, and that you have given me plenty to work with, but I can’t seem to connect it, and it’s killing me. I don’t want to wait any longer to know who you are._

_No, that’s not true. I know who you are, Blue. I mean, I don’t know your name, or what you look like, or all the other stuff. But you have to understand that I really do know you. I know that you’re smart and careful and weird and funny. And you notice things and listen to things, but not in a nosy way. In a real way. You overthink things and remember details and you always, always say the right thing._

_I know that what we have is real and that it won’t just disappear when we meet face to face. I want to try this. And I can’t imagine a scenario where I won’t want to kiss your face off as soon as I see you._

_So please, just tell me who you are already. I’m begging you._

_Love,_

_Simon_

 

I reread my message about six times before I finally find the courage to hit send. And then I fall back onto my bed, covering my face with my hand and groaning into the empty room.

This is it. I’m holding my wand to his throat, in a figure of speech. And now all I can do is hope that it won’t scare him off and make him run.

 

When I wake up the next morning, there’s still no answer from Blue. I feel like crying, but I don’t allow myself to. Instead, I get dressed and make my way down for breakfast.

As I enter the Great Hall, I spot Abby over at the Slytherin table with Leah, Morgan and Anna, and I make my way over there straight away, sinking into the empty seat next to her.

“Simon,” Abby smiles up at me, but she sobers as soon as she takes in my face. “Okay. What’s wrong?”

“I asked for his identity last night,” I tell her, and I sound as miserable as I feel. “He hasn’t answered.”

Abby let’s out a low breath and reaches out to entwine our fingers.

“Maybe he hasn’t seen it yet?” Leah suggests. “It’s still early.”

“He doesn’t usually take that long to answer,” I shake my head. "I've never had to wait longer than a night for a message, and he hasn’t written to me since the day before yesterday. To be exact, ever since Nick talked to him.”

Leah purses her lips at that, and Abby squeezes his hand.

“What if he changed his mind?” I ask quietly. “I can’t lose him now. Not when he’s starting to grow important to me.”

“But it doesn’t make sense,” Leah points out. “Why would he disappear when he was the one who approached you?! He should be out of his mind with happiness now that you show interest in him.”

“Let’s ask Nick about it,” Abby says, matter-of-factly. “He caused this, so he can as well fix it.”

“Where is he, anyway?” Leah asks, searching the Gryffindor table. “I haven’t seen him all morning.”

“Garrett dragged him and Bram over to the field for some flying,” Morgan supplies. “Bram seemed kind of down, and I guess he wanted to take his mind off whatever is bothering him.”

“What _is_ it today?” Leah shakes her head, but she’s already getting to his feet. “Is there something in the water? Did Teddy Lupin poison the supply again during Potions?”

“Don’t let Victoire hear that, or she’ll bite your head off for making fun of Teddy,” I say as I follow after her, not bothering to take along any breakfast. I’m don’t have any appetite.  

“I know he’s an upperclassman and all, but you have to admit that an awful lot of accidents lead back to him,” Leah rolls her eyes. “Remember the time he basically set your common room on fire?”

“Shut up,” I say, cracking a smile. “He’s clumsy, so what. He’s nice. And he’s Harry Potter’s godson.”

“Oh, right,” Leah snorts. “ _Harry Potter_. Anyone who’s connected to _Harry Potter_ , The Boy Who Initiated Simon’s Sexual Awakening, can’t do wrong, of course.”

“I hate you,” I return, but there’s no heat in it.

We make our way down to the Quidditch Pitch in pleasant banter, and I can already see Nick, Garrett and Bram up in the air from the distance, zooming through the air and throwing a Quaffle. I’ve never been one for sports, really, but there’s something aesthetic about them up in the air, and I like to watch the matches whenever I can. I don’t really care for the house championship, but it’s a nice distraction from the everyday drag of classes and homework.

As they approach, Abby asks: “Do we shout for Nick to come down, or do we wait till they’re done?”

“Let’s wait,” I shrug. “We can watch. It’s been a while we saw Nick fly.”

“Only what, a month? Since the last Gryffindor match, where they lost piteously against Bram’s team?” Leah rolls her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest. “It’s _cold_.”

Abby throws an arm around her waist to pull her close, a knowing smile on her face. That seems to pacify Leah. Affection from her girlfriend seems to outweigh her hate for Quidditch. So we make our way up to the nearest stands, sitting down and watching the three boys soar across the sky. They haven’t noticed us yet, and my eyes are drawn to Bram’s muscular legs in his tight sports leggings. Bram is extremely hot when he’s on a broom. The sight of him is what I enjoy most in every match involving Ravenclaw. The way he moves completely changes when he’s up in the air. I can’t quite explain it. It’s like whenever I see him, he’s tense and hyper-aware of everything happening around him, but once he’s on a broom, he relaxes and his focus sharpens on the task in front of him. He’s a great captain, too; the Ravenclaw team has improved by 200% since he took over in September, and I’m sure it’s both because of his skill and knowledge as well as his personality and general aura. Bram is always kind, polite and soft-spoken, and that shouldn’t work for an authority figure, but somehow, it does. I have no doubt in my mind that he’ll become Head Boy next year, too, and he’ll do a fantastic job.

I realise, with a start, that I’ve put more thought into what kind of person Bram Greenfeld is than I ever realised. The boy is always quiet around me and I can probably count all conversations with him that included more than five words on one hand, but I’ve seen him joke around with Nick and Garrett from afar, and a part of me always aches when observing such a scene. I wonder what Bram is like when he lets down his guard.

Then, out of nowhere, Nick’s words from two nights ago come back to me.

_‘It’s funny, actually. He’s not at all silent around us. Me and his best friend, I mean. It’s only you.’_

My mouth falls open, and my heart stops.

It can’t be.

Or can it?

How many friends does Nick have, really? There’s only so many people he hangs out with. It used to be only me and Leah, and then Garrett when he joined the Quidditch team, and with Garrett came Bram. Abby only joined us in fourth year when she transferred from Ilvermorny, and Anna and Morgan had tagged along with Leah.

That’s it. There isn’t anyone else.

And Bram is quiet, and smart, and unexpectedly funny sometimes. He’s been friends with Garrett for as long as I’ve known him, and Garrett is loud and obnoxious and tends to say the weirdest things without thinking. Leah always teases him about it.

He’s Brams best friend, and he’s the _complete opposite_ of him.

“Merlin’s beard,” I whisper, and both Abby’s and Leah’s heads whip around to me.

“What’s wrong, Si?” Leah asks, concern written all over her face.

“It’s Bram,” I blurt out, and then shut my mouth, horrified.

“What?!” Abby and Leah call, almost in sync. Leah looks up to stare at Bram up in the air, and Abby grabs my elbow, gaping at me.

“Are you sure?!” she asks. “What makes you think that?”

“I just,” I start, taking a shaky breath. “He’s quiet.”

“He is,” Leah agrees. “He never talks. That’s why I don’t know anything about him.”

“But he talks around Nick and Garrett,” Abby continues, eyes wide. “And Garrett _always_ talks too much. Holy shit, Simon!”

“Why didn’t we consider him before?!” Leah breathed.

“ _Because_ we don’t know anything about him?” Abby points out. “I don’t even know his blood status, now that I think about it.”

“But Nick would,” I say, gulping. My throat feels raw and dry, as if I've just run around the lake twice.

“He would,” Abby agrees, a smile spreading over her face. “ _Bram Greenfeld._ Oh my god. This is killing me!”

“Would you like it to be him?” Leah asks, eyes sparkling.

I can’t help it: I laugh.

“Are you serious?” I scoff. “He’s only one of the cutest boys in our year.”

“Well, I guess,” Leah muses. “If you’re into silence and brains.”

“Don’t listen to her,” Abby rolls her eyes. “This is _awesome_ , Simon! Bram is adorable and I can totally picture you together! What are you going to do? Will you ask him?”

“I…” I mutter, licking my lips. “I don’t know? Should I? Just like that?”

“Well, Morgan said Bram looked upset today, so if he’s indeed Blue, I’m sure it has to do with you,” Leah says matter-of-factly. “And since he’s not answering your message, the only way to find out what’s wrong is ask him.”

“But why is he upset?” Abby asks, frowning. “I still don’t get that part.”

“Me neither,” I mutter.

“Well,” Leah shrugs, getting to her feet. “Only one way to find out, like I said.”

I notice then that Nick, Garrett and Bram are descending to the ground, apparently done with their little game. Abby makes an excited sound and jumps up.

“Okay,” she says, pulling me up by my arm. “Leah and I will abduct Garrett and Nick, so you can talk to Bram all by yourself.”

“Wait, right now?!” I call, horrified. “But what if I’m wrong?! What if it’s not him?!”

“What is the worst thing that can happen?” Abby asks.

“I die of mortification?” I deadpan.

“Oh please,” Leah rolls her eyes. “Bram and Garrett were completely cool with it when you were outed. He’s not going to freak out. I don’t think he has it in him to be mean, anyway. I’ve never seen him as much as snap at anyone.”

“Exactly,” Abby agrees, still dragging me down the stairs to the ground. “He’ll be kind about it, and then you’ll know. And if you’re right - which I think you are - you’re gonna be totally in love and make everyone jealous. HEY, NICK!” she yells that last part across the field, alerting the other three boys to our presence. I flush deeply as they turn around, stopping in their tracks. Both Garrett and Nick throw a furtive look at Bram, who seems positively frozen.

I can relate, for once.

“Nick, we have to talk,” Abby says loudly, letting go of my arm and crossing the distance towards him. I fall back, staring in slight panic as she slings her arm through his instead, ready to drag him off.

“Okay,” Nick replied, clearly confused. “What about?”

“Our top-secret operation, and how much you suck as an informant,” Leah glowers, and it clearly takes a lot of effort for Nick not to cower under her stare. “Garrett, Morgan is looking for you.”

“She is?” Garrett asks, and it seems like he can’t stop shooting tiny glances at Bram. He clearly knows something is up. Oh Merlin, this is _mortifying_. “What does she want?”

“Does she need a reason to look for her boyfriend?” she snaps. “Get your arse up to the castle, Laughlin!”

“Fine, okay!” he calls, holding up his hands in surrender, before turning back to Bram. “Are you okay to put back the Quaffle?”

“Sure,” Bram says, unfreezing slightly to nod at him.

“Alright,” Garrett says, and his eyes find mine for a moment. He bites his lip, then nods, as if to himself. “I guess I’ll see you later, then.”

And with that, the four of them take off to the castle. I stay where I am, unable to look at Bram.

“You don’t need to wait for me,” Bram notes finally, nodding to where the others are quickly gaining distance on us. “You can go up with them.”

“Oh, no, it’s fine,” I shake my head. “I’ll just wait.”

“Okay,” Bram says slowly, blinking. “I just need to-” He gestures to the door that leads to the changing rooms, and the storage cupboard where the Quidditch supplies are kept.

“Sure,” I shrug. “I’ll be here.”

“Alright,” Bram answers, hesitating before disappearing through the door. I let out a deep breath as soon as he’s out of sight. This is so _awkward_. How am I going to _do_ this?!

I continue freaking out inwardly until Bram returns. He approaches me in slow steps, not meeting my eyes, and somehow, that makes it easier to look at him. His dark curls are tousled by the wind and his skin is glistening from the exertion. His shoulders are tensed and I realise that I’ve never seen him look as nervous as he is now, not in all the years that I’ve known him.

It’s _got_ to be him. There’s no way.

“So,” I blurt out as soon as he reaches me. “I’ve got a question for you.”

Bram stops, eyes wide as he finally meets my eyes.

“Okay,” he says, and it sounds more like a question than an answer.

“I think you heard that I’ve been messaging this guy,” I start, and the effect is immediate. He gulps, and I think I can detect a flush on his cheeks. It’s hard to tell because of the deep brown of his skin, but it’s still notable. It gives me the courage to continue: “And he’s really adorable, and I really want to know who he is.”

“Oh?” Bram says, very softly.

“It’s you,” I mutter, voice equally as soft. “Isn’t it?”

He just looks at me, and it’s all the confirmation I need.

“Oh Merlin,” I whisper, and a smile spreads over my face. “I freaking can’t believe it.”

“Listen, Simon,” Bram says, and his voice is heavy. “I heard you talk to Cal Price yesterday, and I want you to know that you’re in no way obligated to - reciprocate my feelings, or even react to them. If you’re disappointed, I can’t blame you. I swear I’ll be able to deal with it.”

The smile falls from my face, and I frown at him.

“ _Disappointed_?” I repeat. “Cal?! I don’t-” And that’s when I remember. Bram sat right in my back yesterday during breakfast, and he'd clumsily fled the table after Cal made a move.

Shit.

“Okay,” I say, gulping. “Did you check your messages today?”

“You mean on _Quibblr_?” Bram asks, seeming surprised. “No. Why?”

“Why don’t you go up to the castle, change and read my message,” I suggest, biting my lip to suppress a smile. “And then, if you want to talk, you can come find me. I’ll just hang around the lake for a while.”

“What?” Bram asks, clearly confused. “Wait, Simon-”

“Just do it,” I grin. “I’ll talk to you after.”

And with that, I turn around and take off into the direction of the lakeside. I can’t help but grin to myself as I go. Oh Merlin, what a ridiculous misunderstanding! Here I’ve been _agonising_ over Blue not answering, and he hasn’t even checked his messages because he thought I am going to ditch him for Cal!

As if I’d ditch _Bram Greenfeld_. As if I’d be _disappointed_ Blue turned out to be him. In what world would I ever be disappointed about that?!

I pass Hagrid’s hut on my way, and the old Caretaker is out in his garden, charming a shovel to dig into his pumpkin patch.

“Hullo there, Simon,” he called. “Yeh look bloody happy! Sumthin’ good happened, eh?”

“You have no idea,” I grin. “Best day ever.”

“Is tha’ so?” Hagrid chortles, clearly amused. “Well, whoever he is, I hope he’s good to yeh, kiddo.”

I flush at his words, and Hagrid laughs.

 

It’s the end of March, and in Scotland, that means it’s still freaking chilly out. Of course, it should have been even more freezing on the stands of the Quidditch pitch, but because I had company there, I didn’t really mind. Now, as I wait for Bram to come and find me, I'm shivering and cursing my choice for a meeting place. But I can’t leave _now._  What if I miss Bram, and he thinks I changed my mind? I cannot risk that. I’d rather freeze to death.

Thankfully, I don’t have to wait all that long before I hear quick footsteps approaching. I turn around and smile as I spot Bram hurrying towards me, now wrapped in a soft-looking grey winter coat, a Ravenclaw scarf wrapped around his neck. Of course, _he's_ thought of a scarf. I suppress the urge to tug the collar of my own jacket tighter around my neck.

“Hey,” Bram says breathlessly as he reaches me. His eyes are wide, as if he’s shell-shocked that any of this is happening. I can relate. “Can I sit here?”

“I was kind of waiting for you,” I grin, patting the ground beside me. Bram sends me a small, nervous smile and drops down next to me. He’s not exactly sitting far, but it’s just enough distance that our shoulders don’t touch. I’m still hyper aware of him next to me.

“So,” I ask when he doesn’t speak. “Did you read my message?”

“I did,” he confirms, and there’s this slight blush on his cheeks again. It’s the most fascinating thing. I could watch him blush all day. “I’m sorry I kept you waiting for so long.”

“It was worth the wait,” I breathe, and finally, Bram lifts his eyes to meet mine.

“You mean that?” he checks, and there’s an edge to his voice. “You really aren’t disappointed?”

“No,” I say immediately. “In fact, I couldn’t be more thrilled.”

“I was so afraid that you wouldn’t be interested in me,” Bram says in a rush. “That’s why I wanted you to figure it out by yourself. I thought that, if you considered me as an option for Blue, you might have been looking for it to be me.” He pauses, then adds, rather self-consciously: “Is that stupid?”

“No,” I shake my head, biting my lip. “It makes sense, really. And it would have worked for everyone who doesn’t operate on Simon logic.”

“But you did figure it out,” Bram smiles.

“Yes, but it took me _so long_ ,” I groan. “And I feel so daft because I always thought you were cute, Bram. You’re ridiculously cute. Did you know I’ve been calling you Cute Bram in my head since fourth year? No, you didn’t. Of course, you didn’t. I shouldn’t have said anything. That’s creepy, right? I’m sorry.”

“Not creepy,” Bram argues, and his smile has stretched across his face and it’s now so bright that I feel like I’m looking right at the sun. Oh Merlin. How is he even _real_?! “I’d rather go for ‘adorable’.”

“Oh,” I say, grinning. “Well, good. That means we’re on the same page here.”

“I guess,” Bram says, and he looks so awed. Like he can’t believe that I’d actually be interested in him. Which, fair enough, logically, I know Blue has been crushing on me for a long time, but it’s still hard for me to wrap my mind around the fact that the actual person Bram Greenfeld would think of me that way. It makes me feel tingly all over.

“I can’t believe it’s you,” I whisper.

“And I can’t believe you turned down Cal Price because of me,” he mutters, his voice low and soft. “When I heard him ask you out yesterday, I was so sure that was it. That I’d waited too long and lost my chance.”

“Well, you haven’t,” I smile. “Blue has sort of turned my head.” I bite my lip and just look at him. His soft brown eyes are so expressive that he doesn’t even need words to communicate an intent. I never noticed, but his eyelashes are super long. And there are two freckles on his cheekbone.

“I want to hold your hand,” I say, without thinking. I know he’s not out, not to the general public, at least, and I’m not sure he’s ready to be.

But Bram’s eyes are twinkling and I can’t bring myself to regret saying it.

“Then do it,” is all Bram says.

So I do. His hand is warm, much warmer than mine, and he squeezes my fingers as I entwine them with his.

“You’re freezing,” Bram notes.

“It’s fine,” I shrug.

There’s a moment of silence, and then Bram lets go of my hand and untugs his scarf. He hesitates for a moment, and then he moves to wrap it around my neck.

“You don’t have to,” I protest, my cheeks burning. The wool is warm and soft and smells like him. Like fresh spring air with a hint of peppermint. I’m pretty sure this is going to change the scent of my Amortentia potion forever.

“I want to,” Bram insists. “You’ve been out here longer. And I’m pretty cosy right now.” He lets his hand fall back to mine, shyly weaving his fingers back through mine.

I smile and move closer to him, until my entire right side is pressed up against his.

“So,” I ask quietly, running my thumb against his. “What now?”

“Well, we’ll have to go up for lunch eventually.”

“No, I mean, us. I don’t know what you want. I don’t know if you’re ready to be out,” I say, and my voice cracks slightly in nerves.

Bram turns his head to look at me, and his eyes are so open that I feel like I’m going to drown in them.

“I’m all in, if you are,” he says.

“All in?” I ask. “Like what? Like boyfriends?”

“I mean, yeah. If that’s what you want.”

“That’s what I want,” I confirm, and I can’t help but grin. Bram Greenfeld, my boyfriend. My top of the year, Prefect and Captain of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team boyfriend. How is any of this real?!

Bram’s smile is soft, and he looks out over the lake where the Giant Squid stretches its tentacles out of the water to chase low-diving birds.

We don’t talk for a long time, and somehow, it’s still utterly perfect.

 

“Nice scarf, Spier!” Garrett calls as soon as we enter the Great Hall for lunch.

I flush and bury my face deeper in the dark blue wool, hiding a smile I can’t seem to tone down.

“I need new friends,” Bram mutters, his tone long-suffering.

“Well,” I say, my voice muffled by the scarf. “If I read between the lines, Garrett had a hand in your Valentine’s message. So I’m going to cut him some slack.”

Bram makes a face but doesn’t argue.

“Do we go over there?” I ask, nodding to where all our friends, regardless of their houses, are gathered at the Gryffindor table, grinning and waving us over. “Or do we go to another table for peace?”

“I think they’ll just come after us, anyway,” Bram chuckles. “Might as well get it over with.”

“I guess,” I agree. I want to take his hand, and then I realise that nothing is stopping me, so I do. We don’t look at each other as we make our way to the Gryffindor table.

Garrett is sitting between Morgan and Nick, an arm thrown around his girlfriend but his body turned towards Nick as he mutters to him, a huge smirk on his face. Nick is chuckling at whatever he’s saying, and part of me wants to know what it is, and the other part doesn’t even want to think about it. Anna is sitting next to Morgan, and across from them, Leah and Abby are watching us approach over their shoulders. Leah looks smug, and Abby simply thrilled.

“There you are,” Leah says as I take the empty seat next to Abby, Bram on my other side. He doesn’t let go of my hand. “I half expected you to ditch us for lunch.”

“It crossed our minds,” I admit, but then Abby is poking my cheeks, and I have to bat away her hands.

“Look at you!” she coos. “You’re _glowing_. This is so amazing. I love it so much.”

“About time you pulled yourselves together,” Nick snorts, but he's still smiling. “What did I tell you, Bram?! You were freaking out over nothing.”

“Yes, alright,” Bram sighs, but he is smiling, too. “I’ll never doubt you again, Nick Eisner.”

“And you,” Garrett rounds in on me, pointing a finger at me. “I can’t _believe_ you didn’t figure it out! Greenfeld was being so _obvious_!”

“Garrett,” Bram says, a note of warning in his voice.

“But it’s true!” Garrett calls, his finger now pointing at Bram as he tells Simon: “This one has been pining for you for _years_ , Spier!”

“I’m firing you as my best friend,” Bram tells him.

“And his username was already a dead give away,” Garrett continues, shaking his head. “bluegreen118. Bram Louis Greenfeld. His _birthday_. Honestly, Spier.”

“Merlin’s Beard,” I whisper, palming my face with my free hand. “I’m an idiot.”

“No, you’re not,” Bram says gently. “Don’t listen to him.”

“So, what’s your deal now?” Nick asks. “Are you-”

“Of course they are,” Leah rolls her eyes. “ _Look_ at them!”

“I’m sure they’re just holding hands for show, Nick,” Anna teases.

“Yes,” Morgan joins in. “And Simon’s only wearing that scarf because the silver trimmings compliment his eyes.”

“They do, though,” Bram says quietly, squeezing my hand under the table. I’m not sure it’s possible to flush even more than I already am, but somehow, I manage.

“My god, you’re adorable,” Abby sighs happily. “I’m so happy for you two!”

“Thanks,” I mutter, sending her a soft smile.

She makes a happy noise and pokes my cheek again.

 

I feel like I’m floating through the rest of the day. I’m not sure if it’s possible to have a proper date on school grounds, but we’re trying our best. We take a walk along the grounds, holding hands and just talking, about the things we mentioned in the messages and about stuff we never discussed with anyone. At some point, Bram produces a pack of Mini-Oreos he had his Dad send from home, and I think I’m in love. We sneak into the kitchens for milk, goblets and spoons, and then we find a corner of the castle and eat Oreo mush.

It’s absolutely perfect.

“I’m so glad it was you,” I say after I put down my empty goblet, leaning against him. “I can’t believe this is happening to me.”

“Me neither,” Bram chuckles. “I’ve just wanted this for so long, you know? And I really thought I could never have it. Even when we were messaging on _Quibblr_ , I never actually believed that it would work out.”

“You’re kind of a pessimist, I have to admit,” I laugh, and Bram joins in, slightly embarrassed.

“As a Ravenclaw, I’d like to say that I’m a realist, but you’re probably right,” he concedes. “It just seemed impossible to me that you could like me back.”

“Well, I do,” I say softly, turning to catch his eyes. We’re sitting so close to each other that I have to tilt my head up ever so slightly. Bram is only a couple of inches taller than me, which is perfect. He’s not a giant like Garrett, so I don’t feel tiny next to him, but I like that he’d have to lean down a little if he were going to kiss me.

My eyes fall to his lips, my mind immediately shot at the thought. Damn, but I want to kiss him.

“Simon,” he breathes, and I look up into his eyes again. The way he’s looking at me throws me a little, it’s so intense. I can feel it all through my body. And then he’s leaning in and, oh Merlin, this is happening. I feel like I’m going to die of nerves, except that it’s a _good_ feeling. The best I’ve ever felt, to be exact.

We’re a mess, but somehow, that doesn’t matter. Our noses bump together and my glasses are kind of in the way at first, but then Bram tilts his head a little to the side, and our lips fit perfectly together. It’s all gentle pressure and shaky breaths and oh Merlin, it’s so soft. His lips are so freaking soft and I feel like I’m going to melt. His hand comes up to cup the back of my neck and his fingertips brush against the fine hairs there and I shiver against him, drawing my breath in a shaky gasp.

Bram pulls away ever so slightly to look at me, and when I chase his lips with mine, and he smiles at me, and damn, I love his smile.

I can’t help myself. I draw him back in by his robes and pull him into another kiss.

My adorable, sweet Ravenclaw Quidditch Star boyfriend. I feel like the luckiest person in the whole world.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please drop me a comment and tell me what you thought of the story :D It would make my day!
> 
> I am planning on writing a sequel set a little later into their relationship, so if you are interested in that one, please feel free to subscribe to the series!


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